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MySpace

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The other day, I ventured to the edge of the Internet that people are afraid they'll drop off of the face of the Earth if they went to.
I..typed ....the MySpace address, and
stumbled on what the 12-year-old me made as a password.
I was looking for old photos of me and a friend for her birthday.
I found my self in vacant world of inbox notifications and stranger requests instead.
The more garage band suggestions I saw, the louder I snickered. 
I scanned my surroundings; I was afraid that I might cause someone to sneeze from the cyber dust nestled in my phone's screen.
My profile information said that I was straight, and I wondered who could've ever believed that. 
Somewhere in between the spam messages and my ex's continuous "I love you"'s I felt like a kid again;
I remembered the addiction that stemmed from these cheap graphics.
When the menu decided to load, I went through my old albums.
Never found the pictures I was looking for, just some kid that had three hundred friends,  but was always alone.
I guess I forgot about those times.
With that realization, I logged out, and decided to write this poem.
For any Internet kid who sat alone at lunches, log out, get up, and start writing.



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